


dearer than rain to the earth

by springofviolets



Series: always been the tower [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aithusa is on here because she does the creepy cat staring and then leaves, Background Femslash, Bottom Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Butt Plugs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Merlin being snarky at Arthur even during sex, Merlin treating Aithusa like their child, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 07:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11869644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springofviolets/pseuds/springofviolets
Summary: While Morgana and Gwen are away, Merlin and Arthur will play. Purely post-boring-meetings smut with a dash of feelings. Takes place right after "always been the tower."





	dearer than rain to the earth

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Rufus Wainwright, "You're Nearer." Unbeta'd because I am impatient and posting this at work, oops.

Morgana and Gwen had been gone for a week when Merlin started missing them-- at least in part because Arthur missed them, which made him insufferable.  And that’s what prompted him to finally demand chambers of his own.

“Not to sleep in, you dolt,” Merlin had said when Arthur made a face. “But I need a place to work where you can’t beckon me from bed.”

“What do you do that requires an office?” Arthur had asked skeptically.

Merlin waved his hands dramatically. “Tinker. With _spells_. Warlock stuff!”

Arthur had nodded indulgently and had rooms in one of the towers assigned to Merlin, which is where he is now, supposedly doing some of his wizardly tinkering, which in actuality currently consists of scrying various points throughout the kingdom to ensure everyone is faring well and free of threats.

Really, the amount of peace right now is almost boring, and the sun has set, making the visions darker, so he ends it. Arthur’s in council; sometimes Merlin attends, especially if any of the topics have to do with magic, but for the most part he’s grateful they are not required of him. He swings by the kitchens to gather a tray of food for himself and Arthur--flushing when the kitchen maids tease him, as they’ve taken to doing, about his fancy new clothes and his new position, said with a smile and a wink--and then returns to their bedchamber to wait out his king.

He appears not much later, immediately heading for the food as soon as he spots it. “What would I do without you, Merlin,” he says around a mouthful.

“Probably starve, since you still can’t feed yourself,” Merlin replies. “How was council?”

Arthur polishes off a chunk of bread before answering him. “Lord Moriaen has finally come ‘round, but now Lord Galehaut is extremely offended at the idea of opening the knighthood to _any_ commoner, and not just treating the three already knighted as exceptions.”

“But he’s fond of Lancelot, I know!” Merlin says. “And he’s not even a knight, what’s it matter to him?”

“People like tradition. Especially when it keeps them in power.” Arthur shrugs.

“That was almost profound,” Merlin tells him with clearly feigned awe. Arthur has moved towards the bed, and Merlin helps him undress. “Can’t you just… replace them?”

Shaking his head, Arthur says, “Politically, it’s just wiser to wait. Lord Galehaut doesn’t actually have the backing to fight me on anything, and he’s getting older, anyway.” He looks at Merlin. “Any chance you could speed that along?”

“Arthur!”

He chuckles. “I jest, of course.”

Merlin lowers his eyes. “I would, for you,” he murmurs. His thumbs rub gentle circles on Arthur’s hip, above the waist of his breeches.

Arthur places his hands over Merlin’s, stilling them. “I would never ask you to do such a thing,” he says, “unless it was absolutely necessary. My annoyance with an advisor is not worth that.”

The side of Merlin’s mouth quirks into a small smile. “I know. How about something to just give him a perpetual itch in awkward places?”

“That’s more like it!” He releases Merlin’s hands. “You may now finish disrobing me.”

“Bossy,” Merlin huffs. “Someone ought to put you in your place.”

“Oh? And what, pray tell, is my place?” Arthur asks with an arched brow.

Merlin folds the trousers he has just removed and pushes Arthur onto the bed. “In bed. _Sleeping_ ,” he emphasizes. He quickly changes into his own nightshirt and then slips under the covers beside him.

Immediately, Arthur presses against him, his face in Merlin’s neck, tangling their feet.  “Merlin,” he says, “your king has needs that have not yet been met.”

He tugs at Arthur’s hair. “Does he now?” Arthur sighs and lets him (Merlin knows Arthur enjoys this, knows it’s a comfort to receive only the slightest twinge of pain from the one person Arthur knows could never hurt him, and could sooth any wound in an instant regardless, because his love is sometimes nearly unbelievable and unbearable with how it seeps into every inch of Arthur’s being like a balm), humming in pleasure when Merlin settles into a tight fistful and leans into him. “Go to sleep, Arthur,” he whispers, warm breath in Arthur’s ear.

“If you really go to sleep right now, I swear--,” Arthur starts.

“You swear what?” Merlin retorts. He’s smirking at Arthur, letting him know that he’s playing along, and not actually opposed to Arthur’s _needs_.

Instead of waiting for a response from Arthur (who would have given one of many threats he’s given in the past-- like the stocks, a flogging, latrine duty, banishment-- and never even half-heartedly meant) Merlin kisses him, gentle and teasing.

Clearly pleased about getting his way, Arthur moves over Merlin so he’s straddling him, then brings their mouths back together. He nips at Merlin’s lips, first soft and then harder. Arthur takes it from sweet to filthy in an instant, sucking Merlin’s tongue, wound up and desperate like it’s both the first and the last time he’ll ever get to taste him.

Arthur rucks up both of their nightshirts, letting their cocks, hard and hot, slide together. He moans when Merlin wraps his free hand around both of them and strokes them slowly. Before Merlin can get too far, though, Arthur pulls back. “I want your cock,” he says to Merlin in what could pass for a whine. It takes his breath away, because Arthur loves getting fucked-- and wasn’t that a delight to discover, to find out how much his king craved being filled, loved being bent over his desk and taken, how he seems almost perpetually ready and open for Merlin-- but rarely is so vocally desperate for it.

“Eager,” Merlin murmurs to him. He removes his hand and instead caresses Arthur’s hip before dipping further back, and Arthur arches into his touch. Merlin’s fingers brush against something smooth covering Arthur’s hole. He recognizes it as the plug they’ve recently started using, crafted by magic from pale blue glass--outside this room they both always wear Pendragon red, but here, Merlin stakes his claim. He groans. “Did you wear this all day?”

“All day, Merlin,” he confirms. “All through that council meeting I had that blasted thing in me, rubbing inside me, driving me wild because it wasn’t you.” Merlin is gripping the base of the plug and gently, gently tugging it out before pushing it back in, and Arthur shivers. “So, as you can see, no need to waste time with kissing and all that girly nonsense and preparation; you can fuck me now.”

Merlin laughs and kisses him. “You _like_ all that nonsense. You’re a romantic sap. At least when you haven’t been working yourself up all day in front of your lords.” He withdraws the plug entirely and wordlessly spells his cock slick. “Up,” he tells Arthur, who obeys immediately, rising up on his knees to position himself over Merlin’s cock. Merlin teases two wet fingers at Arthur’s entrance, pushes them in, just to be sure.

“Merlin, _Merlin_ ,” Arthur sighs, squirming.  “Come on.”

“Can’t you do anything yourself, sire?” Merlin taunts.  He holds onto Arthur’s hips and lowers him down onto his cock. Once the head nudges past the entrance, he’s inside Arthur in one smooth, slow slide.

Arthur positively keens, head thrown back. His cock is a sight, hard and upright, like it probably was all day, pink and flushed. He loves Arthur’s cock too, shorter but thick; Merlin briefly wishes they were in a different position so he could lap the precome from its tip, feel Arthur heavy on his tongue. He goes to grip it, but only gets a few pumps before Arthur swats his hand away, so instead Merlin roams his hands over the lovely softness of Arthur’s stomach.

“I’m not going to last long,” Arthur says with a gasp. “I want to come on just your cock.” He braces himself with his hands on the bed and starts moving.

“Gods,” Merlin says with a groan, but he acquiesces, threading his hands through Arthur’s hair again and pulling his head downwards so he can mouth at Arthur’s neck. Arthur shifts his hips slightly, leans forward more into Merlin, and with that his cock slides against Merlin’s stomach with every thrust.

“Oh, fuck,” Arthur moans brokenly. He reaches behind himself and hauls Merlin’s thighs up closer to him, trying to force Merlin in deeper. Merlin gets a rush from that, how even though Arthur is the one being fucked, he’s controlling it for only his pleasure, using Merlin’s body to get there.  “Do not move, Merlin, that’s an order,” he adds.

His pace quickens, his cock dragging on Merlin’s stomach with more intensity, and at that point all Arthur can do is huff in Merlin’s ear.

“That’s it,” Merlin croons to him. “You love this, don’t you? You love getting fucked.” Merlin doesn’t talk like this often, but Arthur loves it, and it shows. Moaning loudly and cursing Merlin between his panting breaths, he slams as far back as he can onto Merlin, jerking forward to keep the friction on his own cock going. “What would your lords think if they knew how the king of Camelot begs for my cock, hm?”

At that last part, Arthur stiffens and comes with a short cry, spurting onto Merlin’s stomach and chest. Merlin’s hand circles his cock, milking the last of it. Then he drops his head against Merlin’s shoulder, and as he comes down, still gasping, Merlin holds him tight at the waist, keeping him steady as he fucks up into Arthur’s pliant body to find his own completion.

He feels Arthur’s tongue dart out to lick at his messy chest, teeth grazing over his nipples, and that’s too much. Arthur is so hot and tight, and Merlin groans as he spills inside him.

“Ugh, Merlin, get off me,” Arthur says when he catches his breath.

“You’re the one on me,” Merlin protests. “You get off! I’ll clean you up if you want.”

Arthur hums in agreement. “Mmm, well, I suppose then.” He rolls off Merlin’s cock and onto his stomach on the bed, lifting his hips slightly to present his round arse.

Grinning, Merlin moves behind him, and then stops dead.

“Arthur. We have a guest.”

“ _What_?!” He jerks his head up and looks around.  “Good gods, Merlin, it’s Aithusa, who cares?” 

The small dragon, no longer tiny but still castle-sized, is in a corner watching them unblinkingly. She trills when she hears her name.

“She’s a baby, Arthur, we could be traumatizing her for life!” Merlin says indignantly. “What if she tells Kilgharrah? I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t stop talking about that old beast when you should be doing other things,” Arthur tells him. “She’s a dragon, she hasn’t got a clue what’s going on.”

Merlin frowns, but at that moment Aithusa darts out a window, seeming to have lost interest in them.

“See?” Arthur says, smirking back at Merlin. He wiggles his bottom. “Get to work, Merlin.”

He’s quite certain that both Kilgharrah and Morgana are going to somehow be told about this, but Merlin finds himself caring less as he looks at the shameless man he loves, spread out before him like a gift.

Arthur really does have a beautiful arse, and it’s all Merlin’s, begging for the cheeks to be kneaded and parted so he can lick the wetness from between them. He shouldn’t let himself be distracted from such an important task. Merlin kneels between his king’s legs to accept the offering.


End file.
